Gryphon Rising
by IvyKatEmbyr
Summary: You have to wonder if the flock will ever get a break and go on vacation, without any trouble...but really, how's that possible? The Flock meets another unique experiment. Disaster ensues. First fanfic. R&R. Rated T for violence, etc. FAX, maybe ? Iggy
1. Chapter 1

**Note-Set after the third book, but with the abilities from the first part of the fourth book. **

**Disclaimer- I do not own Maximum Ride.**

**Soo, this is my first story. Read and review?  
**

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IPOV

The problem with national parks is that they don't have much of a point if you can't _see._

I'm not saying that they're _bad_, 'cause you gotta admit they make great places to lay low for a while. But they suck when you're blind, and on _vacation_.  
Why? Let's see…

1) You can only hear the geysers when the rest of the Flock goes to _see_ them once all the tourists leave

2) It's really easy to nearly get boiled by Ol' Faithful while flying a tad too low

3) Yellowstone has way too many trees. We can fly vertically to go through them, yes, but that's harder than say, flying _in the sky_, and it's embarrassing to have to be guided around them. More embarrassing when you _hit_ one while avoiding _another_ tree

4) While Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy are all grateful that we were designed to have eyes like, well, _hawks,_ you sit bored and bitter by Fang, who's sitting invisibly on lookout. Heck, the grizzly's plenty far away enough that you can't hear it, and although it's cool to feel colors, that might be _sorta_ dangerous

Pretty much chalks it up.

Speaking of our newly-found abilities, I'm still getting used to color. Well, obviously before my vision was "enhanced" I could see colors, but I guess I got…_un-_used to them. For pretty much the whole last week, I've been touching random things (that sounded…weird) just to know what color they are. Max is wearing a blue-gray sweatshirt with mud on it. Angel's wings are white. Fang is wearing (you guessed it) black.

We were currently flying through one of the forest-y parts of Yellowstone. I was tailing Max. She kept muttering to herself, and doing head-counts, which I thought was hilarious. The only reason I didn't say anything because she was still mad at me and Gazzy for melting her last good pair of shoes. (They'd been off-white.)

In my defense, I never knew they would react like _that._ At least she didn't know about the t-shirt we used as a fuse yet-

Max stopped in mid-flight, and I nearly ran into her. For one scary moment I thought that Angel had told her what I was thinking.

"UFO!" she whispered loudly, instantly catching the Flock's attention. (She didn't mean aliens. UFO stands for…nevermind.) I assumed they all saw what she did, because Fang shot straight up, presumably to check the rest of the sky and our surroundings, and I heard Gazzy and Angel do 360's. Max (and me, too,) landed in the closest pine tree. Listening carefully, I heard Nudge, holding Total, follow suit somewhere close to Max…and _there!_ A slight whispery wing-flap was all I needed to pinpoint our target.

Oh, and the branch I clung to? It was dark brown.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer- I still don't own Maximum Ride. Probably not going to change anytime soon. Don't hold your breath.  
**

**You should be ashamed of yourselves. No one but me reviewed this story, and that is just SAD.  
**

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**MPOV**

Nudge set down on the branch above me, looking very alert, and focused on what looked to be another bird kid. If I hadn't done a quick head-count I wouldn't have even noticed her. She was looking away, flying gracefully through the trees in a meandering course that was roughly perpendicular to ours.

"Only one, I think," Nudge whispered, too loudly. The other bird-girl backpedaled and looked back at us. Then she adopted a panicked look, and fled. _Crap._

"_Fetch!"_ I hissed, tearing after her. Or flying...whatever.

I was expecting to be led into an ambush at any moment, but the auburn-haired teen seemed pretty bent on ditching us. Angel, Gazzy, and Iggy (who was now holding Total) started to lag behind, while Nudge and I tried to keep up. The girl didn't even bother with flying _around_ trees like we did, but just tucked her wings in and blew through them in a seriously dangerous-looking move that we wouldn't dare try to replicate. (Bird-kid pancake, much?) I kept expecting her to clip a branch with a wing and go down, but she kept darting deftly through them, gaining distance away from us.

And where the heck was Fang?

Suddenly, the fleeing bird kid spun out of control and dropped like a stone. A stone that was moving at high speeds through a pine forest.

**FPOV**

Waiting stock-still 'till the last possible second, I snapped a foot out into the bronze-haired stranger's path. She caught the kick in the collarbone, and then proceeded to crash into the nearest tree. It was a sight to make anyone with wings flinch.

"Fang!" Nudge squealed, coming up from behind with Max, the rest of the Flock trailing. Max's eyes flickered around in a sorta cute cartoon-character manner for other danger, and then landed near the semi-conscious stranger. Her hair was cut short, and it was hard to tell if she had gotten it styled in layers, or if the girl had just grabbed hunks of it and lopped it off with a pair of scissors until it just barely brushed her shoulders. Not like I know the difference. She looked taller than Max, but still at least three or four inches shorter than Ig or I. She wore nondescript hiker's clothes, and a windbreaker was tied in a knot around her waist.

The strange, winged girl tried to scramble to her feet twice. (If I call her strange and winged, does that mean that I'm calling myself strange?) The best she could manage was a halfway-sitting position as Max stopped a couple feet away. Her breath came in small gasps.

I almost felt sorry for her. She was surrounded by six bird people and a talking dog, who looked _really_ irritated for being passed from me to Nudge to Iggy like a loose package. Max looked like an avenging angel as she stood in front of her and asked, "Who are you?" with steel in her voice.

**Unknown POV**

As soon as I turned towards the sound and saw the group of kids, a few of them perched in a tree, two of them _flying_, I realized today was _not_ going to be a good day.

Wouldn't _you?_

_

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_**Okay, I need a name for my character. Any ideas? I was going to go with "Myth" but then I'd have to write out "MaxPOV" and "MythPOV." Suggestions?** **That don't begin with _I, M, F, A, N,_ or **_**G? **_

**(On a side note, I just spelled out, "IM FANG.")**

_**REVIEW. **_**NOW.**_**  
**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer-Somehow, I still don't own Maximum Ride yet. I asked James Patterson, but he said no.**

**Thanks to StormClouds7 for my first real review. I need more for constructive criticism and a name for my bird girl, though. Please?  
**

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Unknown POV

My only advantage was being in the trees. I fled through them at full speed, mind racing.

Appparently all the times I had flown through the trees at breakneck speeds had paid off. The only difference that I was, oh, say, _racing for my life_, instead of flying _for fun._ I had to unfurl my wings after every pine I flashed through to flap and keep from crashing, but it was still quicker than whoever was following me. Silly things were going _around_ the trees.

In the back of my mind, I was cataloguing what I had seen of their faces, matching the brief glimpse of five intent expressions, comparing them to others I remembered. Were they the feline-avian-human hybrids the Lab had tried so hard to successfully create? Or were they the project the papers had mentioned, the feline hybrids with wings grafted on, like the now-obsolete Erasers? They hadn't had the catlike eyes or the tawny-blonde hair that would've shown in either recombinant group…

…And no one's heard of _hair dye._

Weaving through branches, dodging trees that came hardly slow enough to react to, getting a few flaps in before tucking my wings back to squeeze through gaps in the interlaced limbs, I was coming up blank. Possibly these were from another lab, but then why would they be after me? The Lab didn't get enough funding to keep up most of its projects, let alone hire any other's mutants.

Something hit me in the shoulder, and I fell over the thin line between control and chaos. My left wing whammed against a tree trunk and hit a branch in the face. I had seen the guy perched on the branch lash out at me, when he hadn't been there a second before. He _hadn't been there. _ At all. Didn't make a difference as I thudded to the forest floor.

The wind was knocked out of me, and my vision blurred. I'd landed on my right side, and it felt like that half might be bruised permanently.

"Fang!" I heard someone yell. It sounded oddly far away. I tried to get back up. Possibly I would have run, but my right arm gave out and I tipped awkwardly to one side. Using my other arm, I managed to sit up, but I couldn't get any further.

Not that it would've been possible. The six of my pursuers had surrounded me, and with the new number, I realized _who_ they were. Last I'd heard of them, they'd escaped from a lab somewhere in the south. The papers had only named one of them. Perhaps their little group had evaded the Erasers- or maybe they'd been captured and sent after me. I'm always _so_ optimistic.

The girl with light brown hair stepped forward, and I assumed she was Maximum Ride, the leader. I had a few dozen sarcastic comments in mind, but unfortunately I was still gasping like a fish-and if I didn't lie to myself, her cold expression scared me a little. I was like some sort of prey, injured and cornered by an icy-eyed hawk.

"Who are you?" Maximum Ride asked. The irony was almost tangible. Even if I could've answered her, I didn't really know the answer in the first place. But there was a glimmer of hope. Unless she was simply confirming what she already knew (which didn't make sense, because then she wouldn't expect an answer,) the winged teen hadn't been expecting me.

"Max?" a small voice asked, and I tore my eyes away from her to look at the speaker.

"Hm?" Max asked, not blinking. It was a blonde girl, around seven-ish, with white wings. Her blue eyes glanced at me, then looked back at her leader.

"Max, I think she can't speak," she continued. How did she know I was mute if Maximum Ride didn't? "Yup, she's mute. But you can still write stuff down, right?" the creepy girl asked me. Then she frowned. "How can you whisper if you can't talk?" _Holy crap, how did she know what I was thinking?_

_I can read minds,_ a voice said in my head. I have to admit, that despite having an excellent poker face, I could feel the shocked expression on my face.

Three minutes later and a quick introduction to the Flock later, I was opening a word processor on Fang's (the guy who ambushed me) laptop.

_**Where to begin?**_ I typed. **_In answer to your question...I escaped from an Itex branch just inside the Canadian border, north of North Dakota, abouttwo and a half years ago. I guess I don't have a name. I'm the only sucessful winged avian-feline-human hybrid I know of, and almost a complete failure. A sucessful mistake._**

**_

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_First off, I NEED A NAME for my feline-avian character.**

** Yes, depending on why you're mute, you can still whisper. Google it.**

**Review? Look aaaalllllll the way over here. There's a green button (V V V) and you press it.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer- Just guess.**

**Hey, if anyone actually follows this, sorry for not updating. I think I have a name, but if you still have suggestions, shoot.  
**

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IPOV

All I heard was an annoying _click-tap_ sound. Because when she'd mysteriously introduced me to the mysterious mystery-like mystery other bird-girl-mystery (mystery no longer sounds like a word) she neglected to mention the fact that I was _blind._

Another item on the _List of Things Iggy Hates-_

1) Mute people who write/type stuff instead of speaking

2) No one bothering to read it out loud

Likely, most of the Flock couldn't keep up with the quick typing, anyway. We hadn't exactly had the best learning experience at "school."

The clicking stopped. _"Wait,"_ the bird-kid/stranger/other winged person outside the Flock whispered, so quietly that if the whole Flock wasn't already dead quiet, I would've been the only one with a chance of hearing it. "_Which one of you is blind?"_

How'd she know about _that?_ I could feel all eyes drift to me.

"Hey," I complained, "What are you looking at me for?" Yeah, I couldn't see them staring, but I knew it, and it's good to keep them guessing. "Max's shirt is blue…well, it used to be. Angel has pinkish shoes on. Nudge's hoodie is red."

There was a moment of silence.

_"So…You aren't blind?" _ she whispered, not really breaking the quiet at all.

"What would make you think that? I can't see a thing," I said in fake confusion. Gazzy snickered.

_"How many fingers am I holding up?"_ she whispered suspiciously. Okay, so I'm pretty sure she really couldn't do anything but whisper. Did she still count as mute?

"Three? Really, I have no clue-"

"Iggy." Max's voice was just slightly more dangerous than usual. (So, killing-grizzly-bears-with-bear-hands dangerous.)

"How much cat DNA do you have?" Nudge asked. "Do you have any fur? Or like, a tail? Or maybe…" I moaned. The birdkid/stranger/other winged person tried to answer, but Nudge just kept talking. "How can you whisper but not like, talk out loud? Why don't you have a name?"

"What do you know about us?" Fang asked, getting right to the point. Long pause. A sigh.

_"I've heard about you my whole life. Just little things…And there was a paragraph in the papers I found."_ I heard clicking, and assumed that No Name Girl (as compared to the steak brand? I could really use a steak…) was typing as she was whispering. _"'Subject 18505 is the first successful avian/feline/human hybrid, modeled after both the feline/human cross group 162 and the six avian/human hybrids from the Southwestern facility, with approximately 6.101 percent _felis concolor_ DNA, 4.832 percent _accipiter cooperii_ DNA, and 89.153 _homo sapiens_ DNA, and is currently the only subject in group 185."_ She whispered it like she'd memorized it. (And hey, I could call her 18505. See? A name.) What papers?

_"'This group was intended to have all the characteristics of group 162, but with the lighter mass, wings, and other adaptations for flight as the models from the Southwestern facility. Necessary improvements include: increasing muscular strength and endurance, nocturnal vision (esp. switching round pupilary reflex to elliptical,) reducing unnecessary feathered area, lowering metabolic rate, additional vocal organs, Jacobson's organ to work in both semi-felid and human morphs, improving audial sensitivity in semi-felid morph…' The list keeps getting more and more technical, and it was three pages long. But there were other things I remember. Technicians kept comparing me to some other group, but all I knew was that they weren't at the Lab. They laughed whenever the other group failed, like it somehow made _me_ better. They talked about how the other lab had failed an experiment and maimed one of the group's subjects. Then another said to be careful to keep my eyesight intact, otherwise they might get their funding cut, too, and they needed all they could get..." _

18505 kept talking, but it sure as hell wasn't loud enough to interrupt my thoughts. Me:

WTF?!?! #%#$^$!!!!

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**You know you should really review. That way I can improve it, I'll write faster, you can read more...if you don't like reading this, and therefore think you shouldn't review, then why are you at chapter four? Tell me. NOW. REVIEW.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer- Do I really have to say anything? I don't own Maximum Ride. I do own my Jane Doe charrie, though.**

**Enjoy!  
**

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MPOV

The flock pretty much stared blankly at the computer screen while the bird-(cat?)kid rambled on, and on, and on…

Iggy got sorta seethe-y when she mentioned him, but she just kept whispering and typing waaayy too fast for a normal human. Could she seriously get any quieter?

_"And then the group they talked about had escaped, and the other lab was being called up for it…the Lab got more funding, which made them happy, but it was strictly for producing, Erasers, and so they ended up working experiments on wolf hybrids instead of cougar ones. They were at the top of the game with Erasers, apparently had made the first successful ones, but the feline 162 and 168 groups could be much better, if only they had more cash, let alone the 189 and 192 groups…All the other experiments were happy when the other lab's group escaped-a shred of hope for some, a chance to prove their usefulness to most others. But Itex kept on vetoing the cat recombinants, and the chance for escape was too late for Pip, anyway…" _

_ "I never got named, even though most felines got a field name at eight…the Lab sucked at naming. Pipistrelle? Lanicine? But to get a name sorta meant that you were stuck in the training program and it was pretty hard to survive, seeing how many never came back. I guess you could say that names have always freaked me out, just a little. I don't care what you call me, I guess."_

I assumed her Lab was like our School, just with a lot of puma crossbreeds trained like slow-aging Erasers. Well, I assumed that they aged normally, too, because she was talking about when we escaped first-hand, and she didn't look like she was in her twenties, more like our ages. What a coincidence.

Best comparison would be a cross between Nudge and Fang-spitting out paragraphs, but also silently and emotionlessly. At least they could've sent a better actress. She just spat out a pre-memorized script like some sort of automaton (or Flyboy.) C'mon, who memorizes three pages of technicalese unless they're wacko?

"How'd you memorize all that?" I asked dubiously. She looked slightly surprised, and started whispering again. It gave me a headache, so I concentrated on the computer screen.

_**"Group 162 also has perfect visual, audio, and sensory memory, fully developed at about five years. This makes them perfect for infiltration…" Etcetera.**_ She paused, her mouth twitching at the corners. _**And so do I. If you want, I could repeat every question you've asked me, or exactly what you dog was doing when I said "Subject 18505." **_ I looked questioningly at her. Too perfect an excuse.

_"It sighed,"_ she whispered, not typing her answer this time.

Total cleared his throat. The Flock looked at him, and the BCK (bird-cat-kid) looked at him when she realized we had.

"I do have a name, you know. And it sure is _not_ 'It,'" he said disparagingly. The BCK started, eyebrows arching in incredulity. (You think it would get old seeing people's faces when they learned we had a talking dog. But it doesn't.)

_"Sorry. You're Toto, right?"_ she whispered.

"TOTAL. T-o-t-a-l. Total."

_"Like the cereal?"_ God, I wished it was possible for her to speak up.

"No, like the talking dog," he replied. She shrugged, and looked back at the top-secret government-contraband computer screen. Score one for Total.

"Can I call you Gryphon? 'Cause you've got cougar DNA and bird DNA, so it'd be cool, you know?" Nudge asked.

"Gryphons aren't real," Gazzy complained. (Yeah, unless the School's been busy.) "Why not Hoax or Myth?"

"Hos or Meth? I get Gryphon, but not-" Ig dodged my elbow.

_"I don't care," _she whispered.

"Why don't you have vocal chords?" Angel asked, either having understood some of what the "papers" had said, or reading the BCK's mind. She shrugged.

_**Birds don't have vocal chords in their larynx, but instead have a voice box in their syrinx. I got stuck with neither. **_She typed

"What if I don't believe you?" I asked.

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**Well, I have a name for sure now. REVIEW review REVIEW review REVIEW review REVIEW review REVIEW review REVIEW review REVIEW review REVIEW review!!!!!**

**...No that's not the name. But review anyway.  
**


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